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by Victorious56



Series: Early Days [7]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic, M/M, getting closer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24054571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: Qrow is in need of inspiration.Lucky for him, Clover is on hand to supply it.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Early Days [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708144
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





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Qrow scratched his head, his brow furrowed. The kids had received their official Hunters licences, and he wanted to do something to mark their achievement. _Shame I'm hopeless at this kind of thing._ He decided to stop trying to think, trusting inspiration to lend a hand.

Inspiration had not shown up by the following day. Qrow was beginning to fret that by the time he came up with something, it would seem like an afterthought.

"What's on your mind? You've had that expression all morning." Clover turned back towards the airship as Qrow disembarked.

"Oh, it's nothing really. Well, nothing major. But I'm trying to think of something, and it's proving difficult."

"Something in particular? Happy to help if I can."

Qrow stole a sidelong glance at Clover as they approached the accommodation block.

"You're a helpful guy, aren't you?"

Clover looked at him. "Well, I see it as part of my job. And if it means I get to spend more time with... a particular individual, that's an added bonus." He observed the familiar blush across Qrow's cheeks with a smile.

"Uh, okay, well... that's good. For you... and for them..." _Why does he reduce me to incoherent babbling?_ Qrow knew why, but he wasn't prepared to fully admit it to himself. Not yet.

"Why don't I call round later, and we can throw a few ideas around?"

They'd reached Clover's quarters by now. He looked over his shoulder at Qrow as he entered his access code.

"Okay, give me half an hour or so." Qrow recalled the state he'd left his quarters in that morning. He hoped thirty minutes was long enough.

  


There was a knock at the door. Qrow scrambled the last items of discarded clothing into the wardrobe, pushing the door shut. He went to let Clover in.

"Would you like a cup of tea? I'm afraid I don't have any death-by-chocolate in liquid form."

"Look, it was a very comforting drink. I don't treat myself often."

Qrow smirked. "Tea without sugar it is then."

Clover leant against the counter in the small kitchen area, as Qrow busied himself with the kettle and teapot. "So, what's the problem you're wrestling with?"

"Well, it's the kids and their certification. I wanted to mark it in some way, but I'm not sure how."

"Like, buy them presents? Take them somewhere?"

"I think they have plans for some sort of night out soon. And I'm hopeless at presents. There are so many of them... I wouldn't know what to get." Qrow poured boiling water into the teapot, his brow wrinkling.

"You could maybe make something? A special treat?"

"What, like cook something you mean?"

"Yeah... something not too difficult that could be personalised. That would make it special. Handmade presents always go down well."

"I'm not too hot at cooking."

Clover took a moment to consider Qrow's words. _Not too hot. Not from where I'm standing._

"How about this? We make cookies, fairly plain ones like biscuits, in different shapes. Then we can ice them with their initials, different colours of icing. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"We? Would you help me?"

Clover smiled at him. "Of course, I enjoy cooking. I mean, if you'd be happy with that."

Qrow poured the tea into two mugs. "It's good of you to offer. Yes, I'd like that." He slid one mug towards Clover. "Careful, it's hot."

"I can handle hot." Clover winked at Qrow as he took his tea.

Qrow grinned. "You do that a lot."

"Only at those who deserve it." Clover sipped his tea and peered at Qrow over the edge of the mug.

"I'm sure there are plenty of people to wink at then."

"You'd be surprised. I'm very particular."

Qrow felt the blush rising on his cheeks. _Again! I am too old for this..._

Clover took pity on him. "So, I'll find a recipe for these biscuits. Perhaps you could decide what colours of icing you'll want to use."

"I will. Thanks again, Clover."

"No problem. It'll be fun."

❖

The next day, Qrow sent Clover the list of colours for the icing. He hadn't done much baking before, so _I'm in his hands_ , Qrow thought. _Oh gods, that wasn't a good choice of phrase_.

He spent the next few minutes trying to think of something else. Anything, other than the idea of being in Clover's hands. _They're so strong, yet so... gentle..._

He jumped up and walked about the room, trying to calm his thoughts. A buzz from his scroll was a welcome distraction.

_Okay, I'll get some stuff and then we can do this._

_Sounds good_ , Qrow messaged back.

  


A couple of days later both Clover and Qrow had a free afternoon.

"Come over to mine. There's more room." Clover was looking forward to an afternoon spent in his kitchen with Qrow.

Qrow was there within a few minutes. Clover opened the door, already wearing an apron. He turned to go back into the kitchen, giving Qrow the perfect view of his bare back. The lightly tanned skin, a few fine white scars, the definition of his muscles. Qrow stopped in the doorway, feeling the warmth spreading down his neck into his chest. He blinked several times and managed to get his feet moving. "Uh, what's with the no shirt look?"

Clover grinned at him. "I always get hot when I'm cooking, and with both of us in the kitchen..."

Qrow had no answer to that.

He went to the sink and washed his hands. "I didn't bring an apron. Mainly because I don't have an apron."

"Luckily, I have a spare."

Qrow stood still while Clover placed the green apron over his head, adjusting the straps and turning him around so he could fasten it at the back. "Right, now you look the part."

"You have to understand, I've never done anything like this before."

Clover looked at Qrow, one eyebrow raised. He started to snigger, and Qrow joined him, saying in a choked voice, "You know what I mean."

"I do, I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh."

"It's okay, I like it." Qrow smiled at him, wiping his eyes. "Anyway..."

"Yes, biscuits. Let's get to it."

  


Some time later, the biscuits were in the oven. The kitchen wasn't exactly a disaster zone, although Clover hadn't seen it quite this messy before.

"Shall I put the kettle on?"

"Yes, please. That was hard work." Qrow had left his comfort zone far behind.

Clover filled the kettle and set it to boil. He looked at Qrow.

"Come here a minute." Clover reached out a hand, his fingers resting lightly on the side of Qrow's face. He brushed a floury mark from Qrow's cheek with his thumb.

Qrow watched his face, finding himself leaning into the touch. Clover was biting his bottom lip, his thumb still brushing Qrow's cheek gently.

_Strong... but gentle. Just one step, that's all it would take..._

The noise of the kettle coming to the boil jolted Clover back to reality. His hand fell as he turned away to make the tea. Qrow drew a deep breath, wondering if that was the moment, and now it was lost.

By the time the tea was poured, the biscuits were out of the oven. Clover put them on a cooling rack. "We have to wait until they're completely cool before we ice them."

"We can do them today, though?"

"Yes, there should be time. You don't have anything on this evening, do you?"

 _Does he say things like that deliberately?_ "No, nothing particular."

"Okay, well we can put our feet up for a bit, then we can ice them."

  


Clover made the icing. "Now, how many different colours did we want for the base icing?"

Qrow looked at the small bottles of food colouring. "Six, and white too."

Clover put out six extra bowls, dividing the icing into seven portions. "We're going to have a lot of washing up when we're done."

"I'll help you."

"I know." He smirked as he picked up one bottle, pushing some of the others towards Qrow. "Right, you can do these."

They soon had an array of different colours before them. Clover showed Qrow how to ice the biscuits, and if his efforts weren't quite as neat as Clover's, the younger man did not point this out. Qrow was concentrating hard, his tongue just poking out as he applied the icing carefully.

They stood back and admired their work. "Nearly done. But we have to let this set hard before we add the initials."

"Shall we do the washing up now?" It was never Qrow's favourite job.

"Yeah, let's get it out of the way."

  


The kitchen was tidy, the icing had set, and Qrow had fallen asleep on the sofa, his head resting on Clover's shoulder. After sitting still for almost an hour, Clover's arm was numb. He was enjoying the weight of Qrow against him, but his body was begging him to move. He traced a fingertip over Qrow's neck and across his jawline. Qrow stirred and lifted his head. Clover quickly dropped his hand, sitting up straight and stretching his arms. "I think you dozed off."

"Uh, sorry." Qrow's cheeks flushed as he scratched the back of his head.

Clover got to his feet. "No problem. The icing should be set by now."

Using the special tubes of icing—which Clover had got from his friend in the coffee shop—they iced different initials onto the biscuits. "Let's leave some plain, for people who didn't get their licences, but still want biscuits. I want to be able to enjoy my efforts," Qrow said.

"Quite right. When are you going to present these?"

"I thought we could get everyone together in the common room later?"

"That should work. I'll organise my lot if you like."

❖

The common room was noisy with chatter and laughter. Ruby tucked into her third biscuit, the red icing sticking to her lips. "These are great Uncle Qrow, who knew you were such a good cook?"

"I _did_ have a fair bit of help." He looked across the room at Clover, who was laughing at something Yang said. "Just make sure you don't eat anyone else's."

Weiss was considering the array of biscuits on the table. "I like the way you've used different colour combinations for each of us. And most of the lettering is very neat." She smiled at Qrow as she picked up her biscuit, the blue _W_ traced in a slightly wobbly hand on the white icing. "Very stylish." She bit into it carefully. "And tasty!"

Qrow gave her a thumbs up and retreated to the back of the room. Clover joined him, the younger man licking his fingers. "We did well... you did well." He smiled at Qrow.

"I think so. Hold still a minute." Qrow raised a hand, brushing the corner of Clover's mouth. "There was a crumb..." The crumb was soon removed, but Qrow's hand lingered.

For a wild moment Clover considered turning his head to press a kiss into Qrow's palm. He felt the blood rush to his head. _Just do it._

Somebody jostled him, and Elm clapped him across his shoulders. Qrow's hand fell away.

"Great biscuits, boss! Is this going to be a regular event?"

Qrow dragged his gaze away from Clover's face. "Judging by the state of his kitchen when we'd finished, I think that'll be a big fat no."

Clover put his intoxicating thoughts to one side. "Definitely not. It can be your turn next, Elm." He smiled at Qrow, and moved away slowly with Elm, to join Blake and Marrow.

Qrow's eyes followed Clover across the room.

The two of them were so close to something.

_I wonder what exactly it is?_

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments always appreciated, thank you.


End file.
